Mercury soars, spirits dip

Yet another water saga this summer. As the taps spew air and the wells turn dry, T.L.RAGHAVAN relates his experiences.

ANOTHER SCORCHER of a summer is here. As the sun beats down mercilessly, the heat is becoming oppressive by the day. Succulent watermelons and cool cucumbers have flooded the markets. But then, where is the water to beat the heat?

Meandering rows of plastic pots and water tankers splashing the scarce commodity during rickety rides have become an integral part of the cityscape. As taps spew air and wells turn dry, here is yet another incident to complete the picture of discontent this summer:

The sump in my house, where "metro water" collects, though small, has always been a sentinel of assurance. When the supply dwindles partially filling the sump, lifting the rather heavy cast iron lid became a regular exercise before the motor was switched on. The well at the rear which was always a dependable back-up source seemed to develop sympathetic hiccups when it started spewing more air than water, when the pump was switched on.

As a matter of fact, the well has never failed excepting for a short stint of a week or ten days for cleaning when my tenant's wife, a Ph.D. in Mircobiology, showed me a sample of water collected, in which there were more living things per square inch than possibly even people in Tokyo. Yes, the drainage had contaminated the well. Yes, the water table had gone further down to just about the tip of the suction pipe.

This kind of infructuous forays into the sump and well annoyed my wife, who was either in the middle of a bath or washing clothes when water suddenly stopped. She hinted that I should stop at nothing to get back to water problem-less situation. Soon I was pedalling to the Metrowater office. There I was led to the JE who was busy pouring over a heap of registers.

As I seated myself after the usual courtesies and salutations I poured out my woes. He listened patiently. I was especially impressed by the benevolent smile he had at the end of my tale. He wasn't loquacious by way of reply but the little he did was certainly not very helpful. The quintessence of what he said was "Be content with what you get." Before I could say it wasn't good enough, he said "I am from Ramnad and we have faced worse water problems right through our lives not to talk of during a stray summer."

As I was leaving his room, he called me solicitously and asked, "Why not use the metro water we store in Sintex tanks in central places."

As I was getting down the steps there was a friendly "hello" from someone in khakhi shorts and banian who looked a plumber to the boot. He asked me what the problem was and I readily obliged by pouring out my heart. He assured me it is no problem. What more, he knew where I stayed and said he will come in about half an hour's time which he of course said in a hush hush. I knew he had to make this trip unofficially.

He came as promised and accosted me, not clandestinely but in a familiar way, to assure me that 'the problem can be sorted out.' In a hurried way he led me down the labyrinth of the metro water connection network. He went on to say that if these have to be done officially it'll entail delay, besides costing more. He organised the operations that very afternoon. Yes indeed result was there. But it meant quite an outflow of money. He was good enough to tell me however that this will not be a permanent solution and only will last as long as there is a reasonable level of water in the mains. The situation was not to last long as warned by the plumber. Once again it was peccadilloes from the spouse side. One morning, I saw a convoy of more than a dozen water tankers outside a five-star hotel in the vicinity. Very relevantly the name was "Bhagirathan Water Supplies" with quite a few telephone numbers listed on the tank. I memorised one of the telephone numbers which I chanted all the way home. I dialled the number and when someone at the other end answered authoritatively I asked if it was Bhagirathan Water Supplies. The lady asked me what quantity I require and where. She had a big laugh when I mentioned 2500 litres. "Mister, it cannot be a sump. At best it should be a tub. For that kind of capacity you will have to look for a barrel mounted bullock drawn water carrier."

Water becomes scarcer still with the coming of April. Apart from progressively pushing the bathing days to once in three days, we had to device many a water recycling processes like using the water used for washing dishes and cloth to water plants etc. and other water saving measures.

When I was dipped in despondency, there was a silver streak in the dark cloud. Arukutty, my uncle Man's Friday materialised early morning one day, presumably on a visit to organise some purchase or meet someone in connection with farm activities on behalf of my uncle.

He is a cheerful and an ebullient man who is an eternal optimist. In no time he knew something was wrong. I gave him the complete low down on watery woes. "Don't you have a well?" he asked. "Yes" I said "but it is dry like a Moroccan rock".

"Not to worry" he beamed. Then he went on to explain the concepts of deepening the well - introducing further concrete sleeves (orai) etc.

He took it for granted that he could go ahead with this and went out and came back with a few workmen and four or five orais. It was an interesting operation.

When after few hours, the five sleeves, each of one and half feet height vanished into depths to virtually deepen the well by a clear seven feet allowing for a lip of six inches to prevent sand filling the inner cylinder, the sight of water welling up can only be likened to the ecstasy of the voyager after months of exploring the high seas, "sighting land". My wife was all happiness.

Before he left, however, he said, "In case this also fails, pack up and go to Thanjavur. After all you haven't visited your uncle for ages now".

It is mid-March now and with no signs of redemption by way of rains and the deepened well also showing signs of drying up, I will be on the first train to Thanjavur along with my wife and others in the family to tide over a summer which portends to be a memorable one in the new millennium.

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